


Hark! The Croquet Mallets Swing!

by Cuda (Scylla)



Category: The Thrilling Adventure Hour
Genre: Epistolary, F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 07:04:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8880520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scylla/pseuds/Cuda
Summary: Nothing can keep the Doyles apart for long. Ghosts, vampires, weredolls, 'barn owls,' even an empty liquor cabinet are no match for this unmatchable duo's devotion. During an unexpected holiday season apart, Frank and Sadie communicate via letters and telegrams. Frank's situation grows perilous as dark forces stir in the bowels of a declining Colorado resort hotel. Is this the last stanza of Frank and Sadie Doyle's compelling love song? Tune in for this week's dark tale, Adventureketeers!





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [laurus_nobilis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurus_nobilis/gifts).



December 2, 1927  
The Plaza Hotel, Penthouse Suite  
Fifth Avenue at Central Park South,  
New York, NY 10019

Frank, My Darling,

Oh, how I miss you! Why, without your ever so dashing face and charm by my side, I dare say your Sadie has become quite lonely and bored. It's such an unusual thing for you to be gone! I'm quite out of habit with rattling about this empty suite. I pour a second scotch for you every time, before I remember you're not here, Frank. And so of course I drink it to assuage my grief - and also as you're quite aware of my fondness for and frequency of pouring scotch, one can imagine what a state I'm left in! I'm hardly sober enough to lift this pen as I write; or wouldn't be, were it not for the tolerance gained by the aforementioned fondness for a certain woodsy spirit.

But you know me too well, Frank my dear, and how I do detest drinking alone. If I'm to do so, I had much rather it be with you. Do come home soon, my own. I'm afraid I shall waste away without you.

Yours eternally,  
Sadie

 

* * *

December 9, 1927  
The Overlook Hotel, Suite 270  
333 E. Wonderview Avenue  
Mt. Qualo, Colorado 80305

Sadie, My Love;

You most certainly shall not waste away -- I forbid it! Otherwise the pouring of a second (tenth, sixteenth, et al) scotch will fall to me. Certainly, I detest pouring my own drinks as much as you detest drinking alone. Those corks vex me so.

But let us seek happier spirits, and improve our collective mood as well -- ha ha! As you are aware, the cause of our separation is a few pages of nuisance paperwork, with which I shall liquidate the property I recently inherited in Colorado. Why anyone would CHOOSE such a place, when there are warmer and more tastefully decorated locations in which to avoid the less fortunate -- the mind boggles. I digress. Greatly as I miss your lovely eyes, sparkling with such mischief above your snifter's rim, I am glad you elected not to come for your unspecified reasons. It's a bleak, frosty rathole, Sadie-My-Love. Best to divest myself of the dump, before it attracts the supernatural presence for which these frankly horrible wall treatments beg.

I'll be home soon. Keep the brandy warm for my return, in the cup of your perfect fingertips.

With warmest and (unfortunate) relatively sober regards,  
Frank

 

* * *

RX 45BBY5

NYC NEW YORK CITY NY 442P DEC 10 1927

FRANK DOYLE=

MY DEAR I THINK TELEGRAMS ARE SPLENDID= THEY DO NOT REQUIRE MY WRITING OF THEM AT ALL= THE LADY HERE SAYS THEY CHARGE PER LETTER= I PLAN TO USE A NUMBER=

  
I HAVE ENQUIRED AFTER THE WEATHER IN MT QUALO= THE OPERATOR IN SIDEWINDER AND I HAD A LOVELY CONVERSATION ABOUT IT= SHE SAYS YOU ARE SNOWED IN DEAR= YOUR PHONE LINES ARE DOWN= ARE YOU WARM ENOUGH= HAVE YOU ENOUGH DIVERSION= OR AT LEAST MACALLAN= DARLING I MISS YOU SO DO BE SAFE=

SADIE DOYLE=

 

* * *

  


KA58 44 4 EXTRA NT=SIDEWINDER COLO 11 DEC 1927

MT QUALO COLO

SADIE DOYLE:

DONT FEAR SADIE LOVE STOP

WEVE PLENTY OF FUEL FOR GENERATORS AND OUR LIVERS STOP

DARK THINGS AFOOT HERE HOWEVER STOP

THE POSTMAN FROZE TO DEATH IN THE HEDGE MAZE STOP

POST MAY BE SOMEWHAT SLOW AS RESULT STOP

REMEMBER WHAT I SAID ABOUT THE WALL TREATMENTS STOP

DID NOT DIVEST DUMP SOON ENOUGH STOP

FRANK DOYLE.

 

* * *

  


December 18, 1927  
The Overlook Hotel, Suite 270  
333 E. Wonderview Avenue  
Mt. Qualo, Colorado 80305

Sadie Love,

With the telephone lines still down, I've been deprived of your dulcet tones for over a week and it's killing me -- killing me I say! Plenty of guests here for the holidays -- even Croquet Mallet Mulligan! You remember Croquet Mallet Mulligan, don't you my dear? He was our staunch foe at auction for the Crystal Egg Macguffin. What a perfect commemorative decanter that was. He claims to be here to take advantage of the slopes. You remember Farrah and Felicia Slope, don't you my dear?

As you might have noticed from the arrival of this letter, we have a new postman. I've warned this one to steer clear of the hedge maze from now on. Horrible way to go, that. A few of the more altruistically minded here have taken up a fund to have the hedge maze taken down and replaced with a Bocce court. But you know how hedge funds go, my darling -- by spring they'll have no Bocce court and a new time share in the Caimans.

From the tersely-worded telegram you received, you're no doubt wondering what I intimated with my intimations of 'dark things afoot.' Well, we've of course begun collecting a veritable colony of tortured souls. The frozen postal chap is just the most recent -- apparently there were quite a few already. I didn't see them in the beginning, because the majority of them are of the upper crust and uncertain of my credentials. Against my better judgement, I set them right. Now I can't go a night without a noisy gala outside my door or horses charging beneath my windows! Sadie dear, whoever penned the phrase 'silent as the grave' CLEARLY did so uninformed of the wealthy dead.

The hotel director indicated tonight that they'll have a sleigh ready for a descent into Sidewinder by the end of the week. With luck, I'll have signed away my inheritance and be on the train home to you before Saturday.

In despair of your dazzling smile,  
Frank

P.S. There is plenty of fuel for our livers, Sadie-My-Love, but never enough for mine. I'm afraid I've grown quite sober over the last week and it's a detestable state of affairs.

 

* * *

  


December 24, 1927  
The Plaza Hotel, Penthouse Suite  
Fifth Avenue at Central Park South,  
New York, NY 10019

To My Frankenstein,

I received your letter today, and wonder if perhaps your new postman is a victim of the hedges as well. I miss you so and hope that the latter part of your letter is true - not the sober bit, but the 'train-home-this-Saturday' bit. Sobriety truly is a dismal way to spend any holiday. Or any day, really. Except perhaps Independence Day Eve - the fireworks do go all blurry, otherwise. Or perhaps it's Independence Day Day? No, that's not right at all; fireworks during the day would be just another afternoon in the Bronx. Independence Day Day Eve, then? Oh, I don't know. You've been gone nearly a month now, my darling own, and I confess I find solace in the bottle even more than is good for me.

And by that I mean I keep on just as usual. More, I'm afraid, and I would join the ranks of those hob nobby haunts playing polo all night beneath your window. Are they quite horrible, Frank? Why if I were there I'd exorcise their little ghost ponies. Let them hoof it about the grounds themselves, until they learn common decency towards the living!

If this finds you not on the train after all, know that I love you and miss the endearing way you uncork the gin. I've heard the Rocky Mountains can be quite maddening at this time of year - do try to keep your madness to a minimum.

Merry Christmas,  
Sadistic

P.S. The 'fuel' crated along with this letter is for your liver - and whatever other livers you feel appropriate. I've packed the whole of it in rock salt, should you need to melt any ice. Or feel naughty enough to shoot tequila. Or need to banish a few bourgeois busybodies before bedtime.

 

* * *

December 25, 1927  
The Overlook Hotel, Suite 270  
333 E. Wonderview Avenue  
Mt. Qualo, Colorado 80305

Merry Christmas, Dearest of Sadies,

I can't keep the madness to a minimum, my love. It's Christmas Day and yet I'm still here, still quite sober, still plagued by twenty-years-dead men, women and children and their fat, twenty-years-dead ponies. We've added two more to the lot, my dear; both of the huge brawny creatures intended to whisk me down the mountainside perished yesterday in a freak skiing accident. And the horses are dead too. At this rate, I shan't even see you by New Years. You know how I feel about champagne, that it's weak and dull and dissipated, but I feel I could drink a toast of it this year if we were toasting together.

I'm kidding. Don't buy champagne. Dear God, don't buy champagne.

In my loneliness I believe I'm going mad. The Overlook seems to have developed an unrelenting hold upon me. I'm mad enough to reconsider selling. Mad enough to find the snow not always so isolating. Mad enough, even, to see the hedges come to life. I forgot to mention the topiaries, my darling - a perfect zoo of them, cunningly made in the shapes of lions, buffaloes, rabbits, and other charmingly rustic creatures. I've spoken to the dead about them, and they were quite transparent (and honest too -- oho!) about how very murderous the things have been. It seems the postman's death can be blamed more on the hawthorn than the hypothermia.

On the other hand, I've gotten to the bottom of the horsing around below my window. It seems the gentleman who built this place had two sons -- one of whom broke his neck while steeplechasing his way across the countryside up here. He's the cause of the galloping going on all night long. Any suggestions on how to stop that nonsense, Sadie darling?

They've put up a tree in the lobby and they're singing Christmas carols, my love. Hence, I'm writing to you in the safety of my suite. Honestly, a cavalry of undead ponies would be preferable.

Deliriously,  
Frank

 

* * *

RX 45BBY5

NYC NEW YORK CITY NY 442P DEC 30 1927

FRANK DOYLE=

DONT YOU DARE GO MAD FRANK DARLING= I AM COMING OUT TO JOIN YOU AS SOON AS I CAN= WE SHALL TOAST NEW YEARS A BIT LATE= AS FOR THE PREPUBESCENT STEEPLECHASER I SUGGEST TAKING DOWN THE FENCES= UNLESS THEY ARE PHANTOM FENCES TOO=

SADIE DOYLE=

 

* * *

KA58 44 4 EXTRA NT=SIDEWINDER COLO 2 JAN 1928

MT QUALO COLO

SADIE DOYLE:

DO NOT COME OUT STOP

CROQUET MALLET MULLIGAN HAS GONE MAD STOP

THE NICKNAME SEEMS A BIT IRONIC NOW THAT I THINK ABOUT IT STOP

AM HUDDLED IN HOTEL WESTERN UNION OFFICE STOP

MULLIGAN GOT THE TELEGRAPH BOY STOP

THANKFULLY I LEARNED TELEGRAPHY FROM A FELLOW BACK FRESH FROM THE WAR IN A HARLEM BAR STOP

OR WAS IT TELEPATHY STOP

WORKING ON A WAY HOME STOP

SOLVED THE PONY ISSUE FOUND A GROUNDSKEEPER GHOST MURDERED BY THE HEDGES 3 YEARS AGO STOP

HAD HIM TAKE DOWN THE GHOST FENCES FOR ME STOP

THE LATE MSSR BOYD WATSON NO LONGER NIGHTLY BREAKING NECK STOP

BE HOME SOON SADIE LOVE STOP

FRANK DOYLE.

 

* * *

RX 45BBY5

NYC NEW YORK CITY NY 442P JAN 2 1928

FRANK DOYLE=

OH FRANK= ARE YOU QUITE DEAD=

SADIE DOYLE=

 

* * *

 

KA58 44 4 EXTRA NT=SIDEWINDER COLO 2 JAN 1928

MT QUALO COLO

SADIE DOYLE:

RUMORS OF MY DEATH GREATLY EXAGGERATED STOP

OCCURRED TO ME THAT WHOEVER KEEPS DELIVERING YOUR LETTERS CLEARLY HAS MEANS TO TRAVERSE IMPASSABLE MOUNTAIN ROADS STOP

SURVIVING GUESTS AND STAFF BOARDING MAIL WAGON NOW SENDING ONE LAST TELEGRAM STOP

NOTHING TO BE DONE FOR MAD MALLET MULLIGAN STOP

ON THE OTHER HAND WONDERFUL ALLITERATION STOP

WARM SOME BRANDY FOR ME SADIE STOP

FRANK DOYLE.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Yuletide! This is my first TAH fic ever! I tried to capture the feel of the podcast, and so I turned to epistolary fiction to keep their voices the center of the work. I hope you enjoyed the story! I'm a sucker for making extra tangibles to go with a work, so I also hope you enjoy the letterheads and telegrams! The letterhead from The Overlook is legit - the props department actually created it for the Kubrick film. [Check it out!](http://mentalfloss.com/article/58670/11-weird-and-wonderful-letterheads)


End file.
